


Tales from the Guardian of Stories (or Mother Goose's prompt drabblefest)

by Mozzarella



Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-11
Updated: 2014-11-11
Packaged: 2018-02-25 00:13:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2601500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mozzarella/pseuds/Mozzarella
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chapter 1: Snowball Fight on 68th street [part 1]</p><p>Jack is a lonely older kid who loves playing with the younger kids, but never really belongs with them. </p><p>One day he stages a massive snowball fight on 68th street (let's pretend it's real somewhere) because he was feeling particularly cantankerous, and Bunnymund comes out and chastises him for all the trouble he's causing, but then bringing Jack into his flat to dry off his snow-soaked clothes. Even gives him hot cocoa and everything, even while scolding him. </p><p>Jack? He pretty much falls in love. And it only gets crazier from there.</p><p>[Pairings and tags to be added with every chapter. Prompts are open!]</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tales from the Guardian of Stories (or Mother Goose's prompt drabblefest)

**Author's Note:**

> This is me answering my own prompt on the rotg-kink meme: http://rotg-kink.dreamwidth.org/3036.html?thread=6382556#cmt6382556
> 
> And others, eventually :)

  
  


The day Jackson “Jack Frost” Overland fell in love was the same day he almost died.

An arguable overstatement, but if anyone said so, Jack would just remind them what the doctors said about his head trauma and the tiny crack in his skull and they'd shut right up.

“Jack, why do you even keep that around?”

“Are you kidding? It's a precious memory,” Jack quipped. “A keepsake.”

Tooth rolled her eyes affectionately. Jamie did the same, but with less affection and more disgust. “You're such a girl, Jack,” he said, emphasizing the world _girl_ with a meaningful drawl and getting a flick on the forehead for his trouble. 

“Hey!” 

Jack laughed as Jamie rubbed the red mark Tooth left on his chilled skin. 

In the little town of Burgess, snow wasn't a rare sight, especially around Christmas time, lingering a few months after all the way into the beginning of spring. It was often mild, but enough to crunch underfoot when kids played on snow-crusted fields, playgrounds, and yards. 

Jack loved the snow. He'd always loved the cold, the frost dusting the windows in graceful patterns. Snow days meant freedom, snowball fights, and most importantly—fun. 

Now at nineteen, straight into small jobs and never having had the intention of going to a college he didn't need anyway, he didn't need snow days to stay out of school—but snow days still meant freedom and fun for the town's go-to babysitter. 

Jack was a favourite among parents, despite wild and vaguely dangerous habits. The kids loved him and he'd taken care of them since they were in kindergarten. He was like everybody's big brother, and he was a fascinating balance between responsible and engagingly fun, always making sure all the kids got home on time and didn't get into (too much) trouble. 

It helped that he lived with two other upstanding members of the community—Nicholas St. North, their very own Santa Claus, toymaker and crafts supplier and seasonal decorator for their side of Burgess; and Toothiana Rashmi, Burgess' beautiful and colourfully-dressed lone dental surgeon, favoured and loved for her sunny disposition and competent, quick-fire mannerisms. 

They lived in a three-room apartment above North's shop, and Jack appreciated the familial dynamic they'd come to possess over the past few years. 

Being an orphan in foster care had never been so good before North took him in late into his teens. From dreaming of adoption, to dreaming of emancipation, then dreaming of being part of the St. North household forever, Jack had to say that he'd gotten much more optimistic about his future. 

Which was why he was sitting at a café at that very moment, looking over Jamie's shoulder at the gorgeous man sitting over in the corner table. 

So, yeah. He was in love. Fortunately, that stuck for longer than the bandages. Not that it was any less dangerous. 

Because, as usual, Jack had to make things harder for himself by falling in love with the one guy in all of Burgess who seemed to hate his guts (Pitch Black didn't count, of course; the grey old blowhard hated almost everybody). Not to mention a guy who was a full eleven years older than him. 

But that was romance for you. If it was easy, it wouldn't be romance. 

And it all began with “Crikey, ya cracked little bugger, what the hell do ya think yer doin'!?” and Jack's feet sliding out from under him, his head smacking hard against the concrete pavement.

 


End file.
